


Not Another Apocalypse, or: The Hummus Offensive

by juniperberry



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Drunken Giles Ficathon, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 04:50:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20718368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juniperberry/pseuds/juniperberry
Summary: Written for the Drunken Giles Ficathon 2011. Giles is feeling old and useless and tired. And then there's Xander.





	Not Another Apocalypse, or: The Hummus Offensive

He was sure, dimly, that there hadn't been nearly this many apocalypses before he moved to Sunnydale. Of course, now Sunnydale was a hole in the ground, and maybe there had always been this many apocalypses, he just never noticed, not being The Watcher to The Slayer.

Giles sighed and sipped more wine. He hadn't had dinner, it was his third glass, it was the cheap fruity kind the girls liked, but it was wine and he could feel the drink going to his head. That was all right. If he had to face the end of the world--_again_, and wasn't he allowed some break? Wasn't Buffy?--then he may as well do it smashed out of his mind, and the wine didn't have to be exhorbitantly expensive for that.

This was one of those ones that had creeped up on them, wrapped up in life on the Cleveland hellmouth. Somewhere between the festival of this demon saint and the scheduled resurrection of that demi-god that thrived on human hearts, this one had slipped in, last-minute and leaving all of them scrambling to cover the essentials.

The door to his study clicked open. When he glanced up he was relieved to see it was only Xander--"only," as if that could encompass any of them. Xander hovered by the door for a moment, and then he entered the study more decisively, as he shut the door with another soft click.

"Hello," Giles said. He looked back to his desk, covered in manuscripts and old leather-bound books, full of information he simply couldn't process any longer. 

"How's it going?" Xander asked. He perched on the desk, tilted his head to look at one of the open books. "Etruscan. Ha. The Etruscan prophecies are all easy, Giles, no worries on this."

Giles took another sip of wine. And then a few more. "Have Dawn and Willow found anything?"

"Yeah. Apparently the demon being raised tonight is allergic to hummus. Not chickpeas, not garlic, but hummus. Preferably the kind made with roasted red peppers. Buffy and Willow went off to hit up the magic shop and the supermarket, they should be back soon."

"Oh. That's good." He raised his glass for another drink, only to have Xander pluck it out of his hand. "What the--"

"I think now's a good time to cut you off," Xander said, but his voice was kind. He set the wine behind him--probably on some priceless manuscript, which would be unreadable the moment it spilled--and caught Giles's attention by grabbing his hand.

"Hey," Xander said. Giles looked at him, morose and maudlin. He really shouldn't drink around apocalpses, though that would probably turn him into a teetotaler if things continued the way they had.

"What is it?" he asked, and almost winced at how waspish his voice sounded. He was getting old. Another reason to drink.

"I'm just checking on you, is all," Xander said. He tugged on Giles's hand. "You gonna be able to sober up, or should we leave you to guard the fort?"

Giles huffed a sad laugh. "I've gone and made myself useless, haven't I?"

Xander smiled, a soft, small smile that no one other than Giles, Willow, or Buffy ever saw. "A little," he said. "If you get something to eat and some coffee, it'll probably work out a little better. I think I'd bar you from the hummus offensive, though."

"No, I--I should have some coffee," Giles said. Xander was right, even if he hadn't said the words. Giles had more or less fucked this apocalypse up, getting maudlin and depressed.

"I'm just tired," he heard himself say, and Xander tugged him upright, into a tight embrace.

"I know," Xander said, and he didn't complain at all when Giles leaned on him. "I know. It's like there's more of 'em since Sunnydale blew, instead of less, right? And it's not fair, Giles, it really isn't. But we can't do anything else but what we're doing."

Giles buried his face in Xander's neck and sighed. "I know. I'm sorry." He lurched back onto his feet, and Xander steadied him with ease. "I think I need that coffee now."

"Right." Xander slung an arm around Giles's shoulders and led him toward the kitchen. "Tell you what, if you're awake and a bit more sober by the time we get back, I'll probably be up for a roll in the hay before bed."

Giles laughed outright. "You'll be dead tired and covered in hummus."

Xander grinned. "Hey, a food kink. We could totally explore that."

"Not much for garlic in my food kinks," Giles said, feeling a little lighter and a bit more grounded already, Xander's arm and warmth an anchor against the world. "Reminds me too much of work."

"Huh. Well, I could always ask Willow to change it into chocolate syrup."

"Oh, lord, just get me some coffee, I'm finding this funny," Giles said, and listened to Xander's mock indignation and false offended voice as he protested that his jokes were _always_ funny, thank you very much.

The girls returned by the time Giles was on his second cup of coffee, large tubs of wormwort in one bag, dozens of pathetically small tubs of roasted red pepper hummus in the other three.

"Right," Buffy said. "Who's ready to save the world...again?"


End file.
